Ezio Auditore: Serial Tackler
by Afro7hundr
Summary: In an era fraught with fear and steeped in violence, one man finds the courage to run through town and tackle people like some sort of coked up football player.


Forli; the gray bog of a town nestled within looming walls that protected its huts from the drowned mire of the surrounding countryside... and Ezio Auditore was feeling frisky.

Clad in his black and white garb, a dazzlingly bright longsword sheathed at his hip and a stiletto clasped to his thigh, rows of throwing daggers adorning his sides and armored with the ancient impenetrable iron worn by none other than Altair himself, Ezio strode through the town gates dressed to impress and with enough gear to take on a legion of soldiers. But today, his was a mission of peace... and full contact sport.

The town bungled with the typical activity of common folk moving this way and that, the occasional cries of merchants punctuating the steady rhythm of footfalls on cobbled stones.

Ezio continued forward, and within moments the local bard was upon him, strumming his instrument and bursting into song.

"_In west Florencia, born and raised, in the pants of young school girls is where he spent most of his days..._"

Many would think that Ezio, being the violently bloodthirsty Casanova that which was he, would have dealt with this annoying musician in the socially acceptable manner of blunt trauma to the face, but today he was feeling generous. With the flick of his wrist he let fly ten shining florins, bouncing them off the bard's face to clatter into a sparkling heap on the ground.

His instrument fell forgotten from his hands as he and everyone else within a fifty yard radius descended upon the coins in an orgy of joyous squeals and spastic dancing.

That settled, Ezio draped his shoulder cape oh so mysteriously and continued along, making his way to the main street. More people walking about in their usual fashion were found here, and after scanning his surroundings with the predatory eye of an assassin he decided that this would be the place to start.

A deep breath, nostrils filling with the smell of dirty water and fecal matter, and he dispelled it in a quiet, cleansing exhale.

Ezio was ready.

His eyes scanned again, darting between groups of milling nonentities before settling on the lone figure of a plump peasant woman moving down the road, her swishing bombastic rump almost begging for it.

She would be the first.

Flexing his fingers and kicking off into action Ezio sprinted for his target, ducking and weaving between the commoners as he closed in on his prey. He saw her turn to the sounds of rushing footsteps, saw her face develop into an expression of wide eyed surprise as he dove for her center, wrapping his arms around her flabby waist and letting gravity bring them both down to earth. She was the first to hit the stones, but was surprisingly unharmed, for Ezio is a master of the sport.

People all around gasped in shock as they saw the spectacle unfold, a few choosing to verbally express their disapproval.

"My lord, what is he doing!?"

"He's gone mad!"

"Rape?"

"Dis' foo trippin', fo real."

The plump woman beneath him desperately struggled against her attacker, but with a few swipes of her stumpy arms she realized that he disappeared. Rolling herself into a sitting position, she saw the black figure dashing off into the distance.

Ezio raced away from the scene of the crime, continuing down the road in a hasty sprint while scouting out his next victim. He dashed into the plaza, the wide open space providing even more potential candidates. To the center, he heard the shrill voice of a chunky town herald preaching to a crowd of citizens, and Ezio adjusted his course accordingly.

"**In closure, if one of you happens to find my contact lens, do let me know!...**"

The assassin sprinted forward from behind the crowd, and using an elderly old woman's back as a ramp he took to the air, feet together, arms spread wide, soaring over the people to dive bomb the fatman on stage.

"**SWEET MOTHER OF GOD!**" he screamed, and Ezio floored the poor sap like an eagle swooping in for the kill. The crowd gasped predictably, and he took off once more to find the next conquest. A few sharp turns down a few small streets later, and he spied a sexy young thing carrying along down the road, daintily and with an air of effeminate charm.

By that I mean her hips swayed a lot.

Ezio halted momentarily, grinning like a madman and rubbing his hands together. He would have to handle this one with care...

Eventually fixing himself with the right technique he broke into a run, chasing his oblivious quarry down. He was upon her just as she was passing an intersection into an adjacent street, and with the press of the B button he leaped for kill.

To his surprise, instead of going for the girl his jump angled sharply left and into the other street, and to his horror, he found himself plowing directly into the steel brawn of a brute who was previously busying himself with polishing his spear just around the corner, until a tiny little man decided to interrupt him.

Ezio fell to the ground, and the shiny mean giant turned ever so slowly to meet his annoying acquaintance. The brute was decked out in knight's attire, armor engraved with intricate designs and a helmet that concealed his face in a mysterious shadow, revealing only two glowing red eyes that burned with unspeakable hatred.

"This spear..." he rumbled, presenting his phallic instrument of death in his right hand. "...is going..." he extended an armored finger in Ezio's direction. "...in your _ass._"

The giant reached for him, but he rolled out of the way and quickly found his footing. With the agility of a ninja Ezio scampered up the side of a one story building, climbing up and onto its roof with deft speed. Unable to pursue, the brute threw a massive fit, gurgling and ranting with rage, foam spewing forth from the rungs of his football helmet looking face guard before collapsing to the ground in a spazzing seizure, having succumbed to an aneurysm.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Ezio turned away from the streets, and saw no less than fifteen white indicators appear in his vision pointing skywards. Slowly, he angled his head up, and saw just as many archers glaring down upon him from the rooftops above with seething contempt, all simultaneously ordering him to return to the streets where the peasants belonged. They were close, so close that the indicators turned yellow and then red in a matter of moments, and before Ezio knew what was happening they were all fitting their bows with arrows and aiming for his head.

"_HE'S HERE, I FOUND HIM!_" fifteen voices cried in unison, and Ezio took off.

Intense acoustic/rock music with a thick pounding beat resonated in his ears as he ran, with the archers giving chase. A single man leading a pack of fifteen across the rooftops, the sounds of their leather boots stomping across the mortar tilings urging him to maintain the distance. Ezio turned a sudden corner, planting his back to a wall as the archers cried out in bewildered dismay at his sudden disappearance. He clambered onto a chimney, and through the eagle eye he spotted a possible hiding space in the form of a wooden box thing with tapestry draped down each side on separate rooftop. He saw a tightrope leading the way to sweet sanctuary, and with a carefully aimed leap he went for the rope…

…then he floated away from the rope in midair and fell several stories down to the painful stone floor below, splitting his shins as his feet connected with the ground. It also didn't help that his jump to freedom also attracted the attention of the archers, who were making their way down to finish him off.

Ezio gasped in incredible pain as his shattered legs threatened to give out from beneath him. Supporting himself with one hand in his crouched position, his other hand instinctively shot for his medicine pouch fastened to his belt, rummaging inside for a second before retrieving a small bottle. He unfastened the lid and poured its powdery contents into his hand, and he brought his palm to his nose and snorted the coc- smelled the smelling salts, and immediately everything was alright. His bones were healed, the pain was gone, and his breath was minty fresh.

Ezio rose to his feet, just as the archers reached street level and surrounded him. Grinning like the cockiest of all bastards, his fist met his palm.

"Marquess de Queensberry rules only."

The archers drew their swords, maces, daggers, battering rams, attack dogs, blackjacks, claymores, katanas and tazers.

"...or not."

Since guards were very polite in the ways they administered justice, it was an unspoken rule between them that only one may attack a target at a time. A man wielding a painful looking hammer stepped forward to deal the first blow, and swung his weapon in a flashy display of finesse. Unfortunately for him the move took about two whole seconds to complete, and by the time the damage dealing moment arrived Ezio's hand was already waiting to snatch his wrist mid swing. With the guard's stylish routine halted he lost all cognitive function, and Ezio kicked him in the nutsack while snatching the weapon from his hands.

The guard staggered back, confused and helpless. Ezio tossed the mace away and delivered his steel tipped boot into the man's stomach, causing him to double over in agony. With speed Ezio stepped forward, jabbing his right palm up into the guard's stomach and gripping the armor on his back with his left. With strength, he lifted the man into the air, clear off of his feet, and slammed him powerfully into the ground.

The guard was left a sprawled mess; completely destroyed.

The other fourteen guards, who were patiently waiting for Ezio to finish having his sadistic way with their comrade suddenly began remembering doctor's appointments, dates, overdue library books, grocery shopping and sickly dear Aunt Sarahs that they had to attend to, and in a flash they were gone.

Ezio found himself alone in that silent alley. Well, save for the man writhing at his feet and moaning loudly. He looked down at the pathetic creature before him, rolling to and fro gripping his stomach and balls in pain.

With delicate care, Ezio picked the fallen soldier up from his piss puddle in the ground and slung him over his shoulder. He plopped him onto his feet, keeping hold of his shoulders until he was sure the man had found his balance. Releasing him, the assassin stepped back, letting the guard stagger woozily about.

Then Ezio drove his elbow into his body as he rammed the poor bastard back into the ground.

~Fin~


End file.
